Every morning at the station felt like the start of a fantasy, until the train arrived. My analog watch pulled the time back to reality. Doors opened. Time to blend into the wall of people.
Sometimes I wished for a train where mistakes never followed. From the station where everything crumbled, everybody acted on impulse… Yeah, that was me, transferring here. But in this reality, a timer ticked until next spring. One last shot at a normal high school life.
School, breakfast, class. The choice wasn't mine. Never was. But coming here? That was. Simple plan: Stay invisible until it's safe to belong. Sounds ordinary. Living in Japan. People were kind. The invisible hand, when you fell.
Language? I could communicate basically. A compromise. My hometown wasn't far, Southeast Asia… Thailand precisely. Fail this year, and I'm sent back. Everyone agreed on that.
The train barely had a spot. I learned to play along sometimes. In this place, everyone was buried in phones or books. I pulled my phone from my pocket, adjusting my earphones. Music kept me calm, something to hold onto until the ride ended. Pretend I didn't care what people think.
The window glided through each scene, each moment captured like a shutter blink in my eyes. Then the reel stopped. "The next stop is Tsujido." The train doors slid open. The crowd began to move, a steady flow toward the exit. Everyone walked with purpose in the same direction. A vast silence bound them together, yet apart.
A few minutes from the station. My new school. Perfect symmetry of an ordinary building. The tree stood welcoming along the way to the first step of my last chance. A group of students greeted the teacher. Their bows landed in perfect timing. I just stood there, a mannequin, a beat too late. The girls' uniforms were sailors, bright as a field of flowers. Here, pigment was just skin. Mine wasn't.
After a long self-ceremony, the only obstacle was a gate. No time to waste, I stepped in, the first step at school. A scent of flowers welcomed me as a new motivation. This is it. Everything here was my new beginning.
Compared to schools that focus solely on academics. This place offered freedom. Multiple clubs. Activities that balanced schoolwork with student life.More opportunities. Close to home wasn't just ideal but perfect.
First things first, the bulletin board was in front of the school. I picked up the paper. My Japanese name. Jin Hoshizaki Room 1-1. So a new part of me wondered, could there be someone like me here? A transfer student. Supported by others. I stepped closer, desiring to spot another exchange student. But all the names looked local.
"Hoshizaki Jin-kun." A mature woman's voice. My classroom teacher walked directly after I left the bulletin board. "How was your first day?"
"I'm working on it."
"So, no real process, right? Jin was too bland. I told you, keep your real name, and people would've noticed." Yeah, my name's Jate, foreign-sounding here.
"I don't want a megaphone, could slowly get to know people."
She smirked at me. "Here's a hint. Remember what I told you? The Journalism Club. That's your best shot. Sure, try other clubs if you want… Or waste a year doing nothing by continuing to be yourself." She waved at me. "Anyway, I gotta go."
Not much time for disappointment. Another wave of humans I need to follow. Morning appointment at the gymnasium. Full of chairs filled with people. A sound of mumbling echoed all over the building. Shoes scuffed against polished wood, the faint echo folding into the buzz of voices.
The principal's speech underwhelmed. Even the ceiling was more interesting. Then, the sound of the microphone feedback. A new student representative walked up… She misspoke a word, just a little. Giggled and chuckled followed. But she stood there with clear eyes and a voice that held everyone's attention. Overall performance made the hall silent. Mistakes happened. Job done. Move on.
Through an endless string of formalities. The ceremony finally ended. Every fish swam in the same stream, reaching the main building. Nothing felt more like school than the classroom. Everything you saw in the media upfront.
Hallways packed with students. Each step creaked more excitement. The light in the hallway warmed every step, spilling onto a group of students leaning by the window. I walked past them to the furthest room 1-1…
Oh my mind. Through the mirror, all these people were gathering. I felt like a change of decade band member. Deep down, I know nobody cared, but it was your first entrance. Old trick: fake boldness when afraid. I opened the door.
Up front, this place felt a balance of modern design and comfort. A wooden table was like a particular high school. Clean eye, nothing dazzling. Left only… My seat? Or an unoccupied one on the first day was fair game. I quickly scanned. My eyes landed on the last row, by the window, a perfect, quiet spot, distant.
The sky, the streets, the world passing while I stayed safe behind glass. The window seat was a trap I still wanted… I used to strive to be there. Where the spotlight hit, or close enough. A cost of spirit in decline. The kind of sweetness you never forget.
The spotlight faded into natural light. My focus slipped as a glance from behind brushed the back of my neck. "Excuse me," a girl said from behind. I unintentionally reacted by bowing a little as she passed me. Her soft scent lingered, faintly floral. She moved with that quiet confidence, walking into that seat. Just like that. Everybody froze mid-action, drawing eyes to her.
The other girls had their charm, but her presence changed the air. Even the sunlight was on her side. She was unforgettable in the way a song intro stays. Her skin. Her presence. Surreal. The kind the world remembers without trying, opposite to the pigment.
"That's Mikazuki Miyuki, right?" A group of boys whispered. The high school girl with long black hair, sharp cat-like eyes, and an emotionless expression. Everything sounded ordinary. Her appeal wasn't the chair. Staring didn't tell me why.
Wow… Only words were going on in my head till a glimpse of me saw her raise one eyebrow. I shook the thought from my head and went to find a seat. Almost sat near her. Take a note, man. Crucial reminder: It was safer. If she wouldn't remember me.
That unconscious bow to Mikazuki had already defined my place. I need to be where I should be. An unoccupied seat in the middle row, placed my bag on the desk. I stared at the table like an old friend; only a blink could communicate. But why… Why did doubt creep in? Surrounded by friends. The popular group. Center of talking, laughing at your joke.
I clapped my neck lightly, snapping myself out of another daydream. Sometimes optimism wasn't as good as it sounded. Now, wonder how the alternate choice would be. My eyes stopped at Miyuki Mikazuki. She looked quiet. But her quiet was more like her decision, my won't… We didn't belong in each other's memories.
Suddenly, she looked back. Noticed I'd been watching her the whole time. I turned my head, caught my breath. Unintentionally covered my face. Of all people, why me? It burned, my errors surface, as though she might erase me.
My mind hibernated. Safe space. Nothing could have made me turn. Checking the watch, adjusting things. Still, felt like someone was watching. The conversation around me was crazily louder until somebody blocked my view. "You're a transfer student, right? I'm Sugiyama Akihiro." And why am I suddenly being pushed into a conversation with him?
My brow furrowed, but instinct told me to introduce myself. "Nice to meet you, my name is Jin Hoshizaki," I replied confidently. Even my pronunciation wasn't as smooth. His cute face and slightly younger-than-average appearance told me he wouldn't mind, especially as he nodded earnestly while I spoke.
"Haruka told me her cousin would be in my class, so it's you. I thought I might've greeted the wrong person. She told me to find a person who has a mole on his face," Sugiyama relievedly smiled. Friend of Haruka? I hoped this guy would forget me, too.
Haruka Hoshizaki. My cousin. My housemate. Our relationship wasn't on good terms just before the semester started. Therefore, the first role model person in Japan that I want to be: She embodied the culture. Housework, cooking, and studying for a person of this age were out of this world. Hence, she never laid an eye on me like a ghost who didn't deserve a space. Splendid.
Haruka treated me with quiet disdain. Sure, she had the classic traits of an approachable person, but there was no warmth or friendliness in her presence. We were both slow to open up. At least, that's what I told myself. Yet deep down, I felt oddly relieved that we didn't talk.
The door slid open before I replied. "Everyone, get back to your seats. Homeroom is starting now." The teacher stepped in, her voice firm and commanding. So many questions for Sugiyama, but somehow his friendliness didn't drive me to start a conversation.
A typical school day began. Lunch. The sleepy afternoon. Then it's over. Quick, without me doing anything. The last school bell chimed as the student headed out. I stood, lost for a moment. The initial distance from the window never changed.
Some people were still here. The introduction conversation was about the past. Uneasy. So, I let time slip by again. Generally confident when talking, yet I worry about everything. Rather than the risk of failure, I wandered around the school, inspecting the environment.
The decision to do something alone was heavy, but if you thought of nature aside. Absorbed the vibe. Eased into this new life…I let out a big sigh. Liar. The trill vanished fast. Nobody knew me. So why wasn't I happy?
A sudden burst of noise cut through my earphones, the chaotic rhythm of energy from the school field.The grounded smell of dirt contrasts with the lane of this ambitious bird.After-school life, having girls cheering from the sidelines.
Suddenly, I know how I felt… Empty. Maybe instead of trying to blend in, choosing a club from the start would've changed everything. Perhaps I should have prayed for it… But if that was a friend I deserve, an unexplainable curse. The outcome was unworthy.
Imagine being a popular kid, surrounded by many friends… Living like this, declined that type of thing.On the bright side, neither group politics nor sustaining relationships strive for acceptance. Everything bore an unseen tag, the mark of its price.
The cheering grew louder, each shout scraping against my nerves rather than lifting them. I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to leave. But as I turned, a stranger's soft smile stopped me. I froze, dumbfounded. She tapped her ear, so I took off my earphones, "What are you doing? I called you multiple times."
A blonde figure with ambitious eyes. The kind you'd trust, and only later realize had been leading you the whole time. Her elegance pressed down on me. Still, she reached out with surprising humility. "I-I was observing the club activities," I said.
"You want to join the soccer or track club?"
"Athletics aren't my thing…" I replied without thinking, too unguarded. She tilted her head, like she'd already decided something. For a moment, I thought that was the end of it. Until her hand lifted my chin, watching my eye. I hated it when people studied my face up close, so I moved her hand aside as I turned.
Masterful persuasion, effortless conversation. That was her, speaking with a noble expression. Kindness was her second language. Rehearsed, like she wasn't just friendly, but certain I'd say yes. If she hadn't approached, we likely never would've spoken. "I'm Saki Kurogane, year two."
"... What do you want, Senpai?"
Kurogane suddenly raised her arm, pointing to the third floor of the club building. "I saw you from up there," Her voice sparked with energy. "If you don't have a club, why don't you join ours?" Her voice cracked, but the playful tone carried through. That smile people might've taken as affection, a perfect mix of enthusiasm and approachability.
But I found it calculating. No sign of pure feeling. Maybe I'd left my optimism back in the classroom… Or a dumb misunderstanding. Every part of me stood vigilant. Kurogane grabbed my hand. Pulled me to my feet. Started walking as if she'd already decided where we were going. "Why cover your face? Don't hide it." Kurogane said.
"I'm just… tense."
Only an observation, her gaze hit right with composure. She called it cool. I called it my thirteenth mistake. As we reached the front of the club building, she let go of my hand. It was the club wing. One of her hands was around her waist. "Let's head to the third floor. Interesting club in the building."
"So… what exactly does this interesting club want from me?"
"I'm a mage, you know, trying to cure curses like yours." Kurogane's tone was half-joking as she lifted her hand, eyes narrowing toward the distance. Yet the word cure cut deeper than she knew.
"Me?" I stammered.
"Calm down, we could talk again at the club." She smirked, signaling me to follow. The stairwell smelled faintly of polish. Out of habit, my manners caught up, pushing me to introduce myself. A part of me hoped. Chance. My first real friend here, expecting that she wasn't approaching me for benefits, like a lack of club members. As we climbed the staircase, I gathered my courage.
"Senpai!" I called out. "My name is Jate Hoshizaki. Nice to meet you." I met Kurogane's eyes.
Kurogane smiled as I added a small bow. "You don't have to take it that seriously," She covered her mouth as giggles leaked out. That was the first time I'd properly introduced myself to a Japanese person outside of family. It was supposed to be Jin, not Jate. Everything wrong.
"There's no need to bow to people around your age."
My body temperature rose. My heart pounded. It couldn't get worse. "W-What's your club, Saki-senpai?" I asked, trying to sound natural.
A chill ran through the air as Kurogane's gesture turned noticeably colder. "Hoshizaki-san. What did you just call me?" Her smile faded. She smiled so often that a neutral face felt wrong.
The air stalled as my brain was cautious, unable to process, "I'm sorry, Senpai. I didn't mean it." We exchanged eye contact as I bowed slightly. Just to learn that her scariest weapon was an eye.
"I'm kidding. I know you won't be bold enough to call my name."
The chill left, declared it on her side. Okay, she liked that. A teasing tone wrapped in a cheerful smile. "I'm glad to hear that," I tried my best to stay cool.
Kurogane stopped on the stairs to meet my eye. Every time, like a habit. She didn't flinch from my eyes, just met them, and more. "Overthinking type, huh? It's written all over your face."
You know what's written in Kurogane's face? Next time, don't get tricked by beauty like a colorful, poisonous mushroom. " … What about the club?" I exhaled.
"We're almost there." Kurogane's steps echoed ahead. I followed at a distance. The scent of the building filled my nose, something faintly nostalgic. Each creak underfoot tightened my nerves. She waved me over to the room at the end of the hallway. "You've got your guard up, don't you?" Her mouth curved downward. "Let's meet our club member." Then opened her arms and swung the door open. Sign of life, people. Nothing.
"This is it?" I peered inside.
Kurogane nodded confidently, eyes confused. "Why don't we take a tour?" She pulled out her phone, scrolling like this was all perfectly normal. The room was messy. A bookshelf lined one wall, filled with unfamiliar novels, worn-out literature. Tucked between them, surprisingly, were a few manga volumes.
"Is this a book club, Senpai?" I asked.
Without looking up from her phone, she replied, "No. A Journalism Club. We read and write, mostly." Well, that's all of my weak points.
"Tch. They had already left." Kurogane pocketed her phone aggressively. Something must have gone wrong at the club. So she wasn't the only member. This implied a group discussion. Back-and-forth conversations. When they start brainstorming, will I even be able to contribute anything meaningful?
"I… I don't think my Japanese is good enough," I forced a laugh. The challenge tugged at me, but my mind was already retreating.
"Don't worry, we keep it simple. No pressure!" Kurogane tapped my shoulder.
"But I'm not Japanese…"
"That's okay. I used to raise a stray cat… Come on, let's sit at the table." Kurogane took a seat, tapping a chair beside. A simple invitation left me hesitant. "We do a project every month on whatever we want. Sound good?"
Kurogane made me look back and forth. Show me the chance to connect with people. Genial. Like predicted… So paused the fantasy. Why did she even approach me?
"Like you can see, I'm not good at communicating. And the Journalism Club? It's out of my field." I turned my face away. If it were only about boundaries, truly, I wouldn't care. But when she smiled again, something in me braced, like I'd already started preparing to be forgotten.
"I know what I'm doing. A senpai's job is to help, right?" Kurogane proudly placed a hand on her chest, pulling me along effortlessly.
The deal tasted like honey, which made it more dangerous. For a moment, the tree outside blurred. I could almost imagine: the birds, the squirrels, the bees all watching me as a leaf shivered in the wind. There was a chance she was a fairy. Or create a trap with honey. We will see. "Joining the club on a trial period isn't a bad idea… I guess."
"Yeah! You'll never even think about leaving," Kurogane grinned, "Official club activities start next month, but the room's open every day. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"I'm curious. What about the other club members? Are they gonna be fine with me?"
"The other two are in their second year, like me. Everybody has their uniqueness, but you'd better find out for yourself," Kurogane smirked.
Relieved. Little. No turning back now. With only two more members, it shouldn't be too overwhelming. She said they were unusual. If this were only a trial, they wouldn't remember. Left only her… If I mess this up, will she forget me before the club even starts?
My thoughts stalled, replaying how the curse worked. I found myself memorizing her face before my brain could stop me. Logic said the odds of meeting her were impossible to calculate, but this felt like the best roll I'd ever had. Lost in thought, my leg started jiggling on its own. Suddenly, slap! "Ouch!" I yelped.
Kurogane had slapped my leg without warning. "What were you thinking? Disappointed you couldn't spend time alone with a cute Senpai?"
I had let my guard down. Underestimating her? Permanently dumb. I slowly shook my head. This girl. This room. Uncommon club. Strange people. "What about you, Kurogane-senpai? Are you unique, too?" I asked.
"I'm the club president." Kurogane profoundly nodded, raising her brow.
"... What should I do now, Prez?" Shouldn't have asked. No way she was normal.
"It's getting dark. We should probably head home. No one stays in the club building after dark. Let's hurry, you've got a train to catch, don't you?" She said it like a joke, but didn't smile. For a second, I thought she was warning me before our goodbyes. Was that a threat? Mouse? Cockroach? Nothing beat her; she was scarier.
I didn't expect to spend time with a girl on my first day, a surprisingly great start to high school. Was it common to hop on a train here? I never told her. Everything about her didn't make sense. I was too dumb to let her slip away. Kurogane was being nice. Still, I wish she remembered me in a good way. Or she would be another pigment to display.
Didn't want to admit. But it's sad if a cute girl forgets you after the first meeting. So it made sense to listen to what the teacher said: to join the Journalism Club. Maybe she knew something. In the end, it was all about me. Not the club. Not the year that passed. All I could do was try to figure out my choice of living, even if the marks remain.
As I stepped outside, the wind hit me. Refresh. Alive. Pigment may stay. But I could still change. Something shifted quietly. My shadow looked like applause. For the first time in years, someone had seen me. And maybe, the next mark would never appear. In the year to come, my first wish is not to be forgotten.